


Soft Paws and Catcalls

by FuckMyAssDaddyRick (SkeleShip)



Category: Pocket Mortys, Rick and Morty
Genre: Drug Use, Knife Play, M/M, Marijuana, Suicide Attempt, suicide warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-16 00:44:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9266252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkeleShip/pseuds/FuckMyAssDaddyRick
Summary: A Morty is just that - a Morty. Disposable, replaceable. Without their Ricks, they are nothing.





	

He knew it was stupid of him to wonder.

He kicked himself for asking.

“Ya…ya OK Bunny bud?” Greaser propped himself along the brick and mortar of the Morty Daycare, his boot planted firmly against the surface. Bringing his hand to his pocket, he retrieved a hand-rolled cigarette, checking and twisting the tip before placing it between his lips. Giving a drag, he lit it carefully.

On his knees, both ears grasped between white clenched knuckles, a bunny Morty could be seen, his ears pulled low, hard, down. No. No he couldn’t believe his Rick was…

It was just supposed to be a few days. He was off to boot camp to get stronger to help _protect his Rick_. Now, he was...

Sobs erupted from his form as Greaser rolled his eyes. Lighting the end of the smoke, he drew in long and slow.

“H-he's dead...What...what is going to happen to me?” Looking up, Greaser tried his best to avoid the Rabbit Morty's gaze as he pulled on his ears more, letting them go every so often to brush the matted fur straight.

“Yer probably g-gonna end up in a soup.” Greaser took a drag off of his smoke again, playing with it between two fingers, watching the small crumbles of leaf fall haphazardly away. Another wail came from the rabbit as he took another drag, making small smoke rings before exhaling fully from his nose. The sweet aroma of THC and tobacco dotted the air as he looked up.

“God, wouldja shaddup?” He rolled his eyes again, kicking off the wall as he walked forward.

“So yer Rick's dead.” His accent was thick. “Big whoop.”

“B-b-big woop? B-b-b-BIG WOOP?!” The rabbit was in full on panic mode as he looked around. “Y-y-you don't understand being an omnivore at the top of the chain and all a-and everything b-b-but-”

“I'm understandin' ya plenty, Rabbit.” Greaser took another drag on the smoke.

“I'ma just failing to see what this hasta do with me, or for a better term, why I should care.”

“Nothing.” The rabbit had slowly composed himself the best he could. “It...has nothing to do with you...at all...” He wiped his tears on his ears, sniffling a little as he folded them back. This was his life now. Isolation. Four walls. Part of Rabbit's mind was at ease in this docile environment, the other part of him screeched for freedom, the sides battling for acceptance.

Dinner that night was awkward as hushed whispers fell about the large oak table, all eyes on Rabbit Morty. Several veteran Morty's discussed among themselves the new addition to the “Permanent Morty Club” while others softly took pictures of their Ricks out, talking to other Mortys. Greaser quietly spooned his food into his mouth, not paying any mind to Rabbit as he slipped from the table silently, not touching his food.

He'd tap his spoon's tip into the oatmeal as he studied the shine of the metal. Metal. Hard, cold, metal. It sent a shiver up his spine as he slowly sighed, standing and walking away.

Several Morty's heads jerked up, following him silently as he slipped from view.

Going back to discussing their own things, the Morty's occupied themselves, their voices clattering and clamoring to life with the exit of the two.

“Ay yo...BunBum?” Greaser called in a stage whisper, peeking his head into several of the sparingly decorated dorm rooms. It was obvious how long each Morty had been there, some walls covered in taped up doodles, some in just white stoic and gray striped wallpaper.

Greaser's attention turned to another hall as he heard soft pitterpatters of pawpads and barely audible clacks of nails on the polished stone flooring. He'd slip against a wall, his form pressed in hard as he observed the small creature fumbling with something in its paws, looking around for any identifying marks to tell him exactly where he was in the building.  
Eyes peered along looming walls in the hall. _That dumb rabbit's lost._ Greaser chuckled in his mind. This place, although small, was very much like a maze. Corners lead to dead ends or halls. Greaser saw as the bunny gave a cry of frustration. He just wanted to retire to his room in solitude, not get lost among the labyrinthine halls. In all aspects of the word, he was a trapped animal, his body showing the tell-tale signs of panic.

_Perfect._

Greaser would step from the shadows, his form caste over the rabbit as he looked to him, a sinister smile on his face. A soft **snsk** erupted from his hand as a silver flash brought the rabbit's attention to a switchblade.

“So. Whatcha' doin.”

“G-g-g-” he stumbled back, his words choked up in fear.

“G-g-g? What the 'ell is that supposed to mean? G-g-g?” He mocked as he took a step forward, the rabbit gripping the item in his hands more.

Greaser's eyes fell on it as he arched his eyebrow.

“Do ya even know what'chu got there?” his tone was half amused, half serious. The rabbit looked down to the flask, a familiar, pungent yellow liquid inside of it. Giving a hard swallow and nod, he'd look to Greaser.

“So. Suicide, eh? Gonna wipe out all the other rabbits that ever existed in the process too?” He motioned with the tip of his blade in a circle with a slightly amused smile on his lips. He took another step forward, his locks falling before his eyes as the smaller Morty scrambled to his feet, almost tripping over them in the process.

“G-g-go away!” He choked out bravely as he held the flask up. His hand trembled as he looked between Greaser and the flask, eyes narrowed.

“Do it.” Greaser began to clean under a nail with the blade as he whistled a jaunty tune, looking away.

The rabbit paused, glaring.

“Oh, you don't think I won't?” His eyes grew glassy. Greaser never made eyecontact.

“Nope.” He examined his nails a bit as he glanced up at the rabbit with a shaking hand.

“Well I'll show you!” In an instant, he began to chug the concoction, immediately regretting it as he felt himself getting instantly ill. The world began to spin, his mind a blur as he fell back on his butt. The flask fell from his hand, shattering on the ground as Greaser shook his head, walking over to the now drugged out rabbit.

“Now look at whatcha did.” He nudged some of the broken flask to the side as he sighed, watching the rabbit looking around frantically. Kneeling low, he lifted an ear up, whispering.

“Listen BunButt, I don't give two shits whatcha planning for the future.” He leaned in softly. “Always a chance yer Rick could come back. I hear science is a fickle bitch.” He would shrug some, stuffing his hands in his pockets in a swift standing motion as the rabbit looked up, eyes dotted with tears.

“Y...you think so?”

“Ehh, whadda I know. I'm just a greaseball.” He would bring the knife along the rabbit's fur as he traced it along the neck, causing a shiver from the bunny.

“So. Ya still wanna die?” Greaser's eyes flicked from the blade, along the rabbit's neck. “Could do it so it'd be quick...” He licked his upper lip in anticipation, causing the Rabbit's eyes to go distant, his mind now surrounded in fear and feeling like he was going to pass out.

The sound of running water and the warmth surrounding him was the next thing he remembered, feeling the hot liquid running through his nappy brown and white fluff. Greaser's jacket was off, his top black instead of the normal yellow, the sleeves rolled up, his knees planted firmly on the floor as his hands worked over soapy suds into the fur. A few strands fell before his dark pupils as he glanced down at the Rabbit's form.

A bit skinnier than the other Mortys, this rabbit had definitely spent a large chunk of his life on the run, every muscle perfectly outlined under the wet fur. Greaser noted how developed certain muscles were from overuse, watching as the rabbit slowly relaxed back into the warm water. Greaser would pause as he scrubbed the fur over, taking care to avoid the Manipulation chip.

“You know...” His brow furrowed down as he observed the area the chip rested on. Whoever the Rick was that “owned” this Morty prior was had lousy aim. “I can take this chip outta ya, if-if-if ya want.” He noted certain bits of copper poking out and wondered, half amused, how much the chip influenced the rabbit's willingness to commit to his owner, noting how bent the metal pins were.

“D-does it matter anymore?” The rabbit said, dipping his hand into the water halfheartedly. He'd pull it back, watching the little drops pool at the tips of his claws, dripping back into the water.

“I'll assume that's a yes?”

“Whatever...” Laying his head back, the smaller rabbit's ears dipped into the tub, his eyes closed.

A soft **SNK**! later, he'd feel the tip of the blade against his temple as Greaser worked the chip free from the side of his head, watching as it popped off with ease and into the bath. Scooting as far away from it as he could, Rabbit Morty reached for the nearest thing to cling to as he pulled it close and into the tub with him.

It happened to be Greaser.

His form now soaked, he looked up from the tub.

“Are you fuckin' serious right now?!” His hair rolled little beads of water off, his hair almost perfectly untouched save for a few strands branched about his face, his eyes cutting daggers into the offending Morty.

Rabbit would squeak, pushing him up and out of the tub as he buried his face in his paws.

Was he going to hit him?

Tell him he was a “stupid, worthless Morty”?

It was the first act of kindness he had received since being dropped off here. Now, looking up to the soaked Morty, Rabbit felt his stomach twist in uncomfortable knots. All he wanted to do was get as far from the chip as possible.

Giving a chuckle, Greaser shook his head. He couldn't stay mad at the rabbit. Bringing his hand down between the bunnies' feet, he uncorked the tub with a comical “Pop”, watching the water drain out as suds slipped down into the abyss.

He'd grab a towel from a nearby rack, helping him stand as he wrapped the rabbit up in it. He dried his fur, being careful to avoid the area where the chip was once. Bringing his hand down, he softly lifted the rabbit's chin as his gaze, soft, spoke volumes over his accented, rough voice.

“Now. How ya feelin'?” He'd carefully dry the rabbit's ears off

“Life's scary. I-I-I understand that probably as much as the next Morty.” Rabbit's eyes teared up “And...I'm scared. I'm scared...” Drawing a sharp breath in as Greaser dabbed the fresh wound dry, Rabbit brought his hand up, playing with a small fold of wet fabric between his fingers.

Greaser smiled, bringing his hands under the smaller Morty's knees as he lifted him up, holding him close. The rabbit didn't seem to mind, his hands folding against his chest softly as he looked up innocently. Greaser would take several booted steps, walking to his bed as he placed the smaller male down, watching as the towel fell over his waist and covered him completely.

Taking his soaked shirt and pants off, Greaser tossed them to the side, retrieving two pairs of boxers from his small, sturdy nightstand. Tossing a pair of them to the bunny, a small smile came to his face as he thought of the print.

“Err, sorry, 's all I got until Rick does the laundry.”

“It's okay, I-I...I like them.” Sliding the heart print boxers over his hips, he'd cut his eyes away from Greaser in a modest attempt to show a bit of decency.

Now donning a black pair of boxers, Greaser slid between the covers of the twin bed, propping his head up on his knuckles as the rabbit dried his feet, flexed his toes and tossed the towel to the side. He almost jumped, seeing Greaser with a small grin on his face, staring him over.

“Ya can sleep here tonight. Don't mind.”

“What if you...try something?” The rabbit looked to the side, ashamed the question came from his lips.

“Time for that woulda been when you first drank it, ya know.” A disgusted glare sent the rabbit sinking back.

“Listen. I dun know what yer Rick did ta you, but that's behind ya now. Get some sleep.” He'd roll onto his side, clicking the lamp off as the rabbit looked down, sliding between the sheets with a soft huff.

“ 'Night.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Just some fluff I wrote between two of my favorite Mortys. I've not seen much art of this ship in particular, so here we go!


End file.
